Wash Away My Tears
by McMahonHelmsleyEraFan
Summary: Circumstances beyond her control have destroyed Stephanie's life. She's forgotten her dreams and neglected love in favor of survival. She has to be strong but will her heart soften when she finds a man who tries to show her it's okay to feel?
1. Chapter 1

Five Years Ago

Sixteen year old Stephanie Marie McMahon bit down on her quivering lip as she poked her head around her bedroom door. There was a storm outside…the rain was pelting at her windows and there were random bursts of thunder and lightning. But that wasn't what had her awake at two in the morning.

God, she was so tired of her family being so dysfunctional. Why couldn't her parents just be normal? Not that they'd know what the word was even if someone pointed it out to them in the damn dictionary, with a magnifying glass.

Between her father's anger issues and her mother's rapidly increasing alcohol problems, she didn't know what the hell to do. Her father was a workaholic and her mother was lonely due to his frequent absences. So she somewhat understood what had driven her mother to the brink of alcoholism. On the other hand, her father worked damn hard to provide them with a very comfortable lifestyle. When he came home he wanted love, appreciation and a peaceful setting.

Unfortunately, bullshit like what was currently happening downstairs is what he often came back to. The situation seemed to have no solution, to be honest. This was just the vicious cycle that they'd all been subjected to. But it was never something that she got used to, so to speak.

Shane had been her rock throughout the years of their parents screaming, cursing and throwing things in the middle of the night. Sometimes she would wander into his room because she felt emotionally safe there; he knew exactly what she was going through. Her big brother would hold his hands over her ears so that she could sleep undisturbed.

But now? Shane was off at college. He'd literally gone clear across the fucking country to escape having to deal with this madness on a regular basis. Stephanie didn't blame him…she just wished there was a way she could've tagged along, too. In just another year, she could finally get the hell out of here and start living freely and peacefully, as well.

"_What the hell kind of example are you setting for the kids?" Vince screamed._

_Linda sneered at him disdainfully. He literally made her sick to her stomach as of late. She was trying hard to hold it together long enough for both kids to get through college but each day, her resolve crumbled. "Stephanie is the only child still living here and she's a good kid. You've seen her report cards; she's an excellent student."_

"_No thanks to you! Every time I talk to you, you're under the influence of some kind of alcohol. Quite frankly I'm sick of this shit, Linda. Exactly how much of my money do you spend on this crap?" He asked, grabbing the glass of wine out of her hand and slamming it onto the counter. He winced a little when the glass broke and the wine splashed all over his hand._

"_Look what you've done now!" Linda shouted, planting her hands into his chest and giving him a shove into the counter. "That was the last of the bottle."_

"_All you care about is drinking!" Vince accused, pointing a finger at her. _

"_You're full of shit and all you care about is money! You don't give a flying fuck about this family!"_

"_That's complete bullshit and you know it! Shane is my pride and joy and Stephanie is my single greatest accomplishment."_

Despite the fact that her parents were arguing like cats and dogs, Stephanie cracked a small smile. Lifting the sleeve of her sweatshirt, she wiped at her teary eyes. She loved her Dad, she really did. In fact, the term "Daddy's little girl" was probably created specifically for her. Her father completely spoiled her and pretty much let her do whatever she wanted. In his eyes, she could do no wrong. And because she didn't want to disappoint him, she never wanted to do wrong in the first place.

She just wished that…things were different. That her parents loved each other as much as they loved her and Shane.

_Linda laughed loudly and bitterly. "See, that's how I know you're full of shit, Vince. She isn't even yours!"_

Stephanie's eyes went wide as she listened to the eerie silence that descended upon the large, two-story house. Who wasn't whose? What the hell was her mother talking about?

_Vince watched Linda carefully. Her mouth had fallen open, but she'd covered it with her hand and had backed up a few paces. "What the hell are you talking about?" Vince questioned incredulously, his spoken question mirroring Stephanie's silent one from upstairs. When Linda said nothing, he took a step forward. _

_Linda held a hand out and continued to back up, until she hit the refrigerator. "Vince, please. I'm…I'm drunk. I…had a whole bottle of wine except for what you spilled. I don't even – i don't know what I'm saying."_

"_What do you mean she isn't mine? Are you saying Stephanie isn't my child? Is that what you're telling me?"_

"_Vince, I…I think we should…we should talk about this…some other time."_

_Outside, thunder rumbled the skies and a flash of lighting illuminated the dimmed kitchen for a few moments. Vince's chest heaved with his heavy breathing. He was so angry he couldn't keep his fists from clenching or his teeth from chattering together. He'd asked Linda a very simple question. A question that simply required a yes or no. If an explanation was needed, that meant that the answer wasn't going to be to his liking. If the answer was one he wasn't in favor of…well that meant only one thing._

_Before he could stop himself, he closed the distance between himself and Linda. She tried to move out of the way, but he didn't let her. His hands wrapped around her neck and he pressed her into the surface of the refrigerator. "TELL ME WHO HER FATHER IS!" _

"_I-I…can't…br…I" Linda choked out, clawing at his hands with her fingers._

"_TELL ME! YOU FUCKING TELL ME WHO'S THE BASTARD THAT FATHERED THE CHILD I'VE RAISED FOR SIXTEEN YEARS!"_

With her mouth parted in shock, tears were silently making their way down Stephanie's face. This couldn't be. It just couldn't. She had the trademark McMahon chin. She had freckles and relatively pale skin, as was typical for those born of Celtic descent. There was no way that she wasn't really her father's daughter. It just didn't make any damn sense. Why the hell wouldn't her Mom just tell her Dad that and end this stupid turn that their fight had taken?

_The next sound in the house was that of croaking as Linda struggled to get free and breathe. "Vince….I…ah…she's…your...daughter!"_

_Vince slammed her head into the refrigerator and watched as her eyes briefly rolled into the back of her head. "Stop lying to me, you alcoholic bitch! Tell me the truth or I swear to God I'll kill you right here and now," he threatened lowly. _

Taking a deep breath for composure and courage, Stephanie opened her bedroom door fully and sprinted for the staircase. She had to stop her Dad from doing something he would regret. She had to try to put together the pieces of this family before they managed to fall apart even more than they already had. Stephanie was literally the only thing that bonded them; the only thing that they agreed on. She could help; get them to see sense and fix whatever the fuck was wrong with their relationship.

_Linda winced and tried to tighten the muscles in her neck to prolong the inevitable. She couldn't call for help, really. Stephanie was likely completely knocked out upstairs. Her daughter would wake in the morning to find her dead, at the hands of the man who'd raised her. She couldn't allow that to happen. Maybe if she told the truth, Vince would release her. And she could explain. "She…she," Linda started, but trailed off as her oxygen supply dwindled. "Rod," she finally whispered._

"DAD, STOP!" Stephanie shouted as she ran into the kitchen and tugged on her father's arm to get him to loosen his hold.

Vince stumbled backwards as Stephanie tugged him away from her mother. He leaned against the counter for support and was only vaguely paying attention as Stephanie basically cradled Linda, as she coughed and got her bearings back.

Both women looked over at him with their wide, blue eyes. Manipulative blue eyes, if you asked him. Linda could lie right to his damn face for well over a decade and he hadn't picked up on it. Meanwhile Stephanie could get away with murder if she wanted to, simply because she was his little girl.

Except that…she wasn't really his little girl, now was she? As he watched her console her mother, something inside of him snapped. He walked over to the pair and grabbed each of them by the arm.

"Dad, what are you – hey, ow that hurts!" Stephanie complained as she and Linda were dragged through the kitchen and dining room.

Abruptly, Vince stopped "Don't call me that! Don't ever call me that again!"

"For God's sake Vince!" Linda chastised hoarsely. "This isn't her fault!"

"You shut the fuck up! You're a liar and a whore and-"

Running off of pure instinct, Stephanie's palm connected with Vince's cheek. As she watched his head spin around, she covered her mouth in horror. She was just…so fed up with all of the drama and fighting. She'd held her tongue for years, but she just couldn't anymore. Now she was literally involved in their squabbles, even if it was only to keep her Dad from killing her Mom.

Slowly, Vince turned his head towards her again. The look on his face sent a tiny shiver down her spine. He was looking at her in much the same way he looked at her mother, at times. He visibly tightened his jaw, before he uttered something Stephanie didn't immediately comprehend. "Get out."

"Dad, I-" Stephanie started, but was interrupted as both she and Linda were forcefully pulled by their arms again. "I'm sorry I hit you! I'm sorry!"

Vince ignored her and continued to lead the way to the front door. He couldn't stand to be around either one of them right now. Stephanie was too much like her mother and she'd just proven that. Furthermore, now that he knew the truth, he could see that she was like his late, older brother. The bastard was lucky that he was already dead. Otherwise, Vince would singlehandedly kill the man himself.

Running off of pure adrenaline, Vince threw open the door, ignoring the sound it made as it hit the wall. It was raining, but he didn't give a damn. He didn't give a damn about anything at this moment except for getting away from the two women who'd ruined his world and broken his heart. He grabbed their arms and made them go outside.

"Are you fucking crazy?" Linda yelled as the rain pelted her face and hair. "There's a storm! Where are we supposed to go?"

"_She's _not my daughter and as of this moment, you're not my wife. Where you go isn't my problem anymore. Now get the hell off my property before I call the police."

Stephanie's long brown hair was soaked and her sweats were already plastered to her body. She shivered in the cold and jumped a little bit when thunder rumbled behind them. "Daddy, please! Please! I don't know what I did, Dad. But I'll do better, I promise! Please," she pleaded with him, yanking on his arm.

Vigorously, Vince shook himself free of her grasp. Stephanie tripped backwards on the steps but didn't fall. "I never want to see either of you again," he said lowly.

It didn't feel like she was crying hysterically; the tears were mixing with the rain. She stood there with wet hair, wet clothes and an indescribable ache in her chest. Her arms hung limply at her sides while she watched her father slam the door right in her face. She swallowed hard and blinked, too shocked at what had just taken place.

"Come on, Stephanie," Linda said gently, placing her hands on her daughter's shoulders.

Lightly shaking her head to clear it of the horrible fog of confusion that had come over her, Stephanie rang the doorbell wildly. "Dad! Dad, stop being silly. Open the door," she cried and proceeded to hit it with her hand. "Come on, Dad. I'm cold and wet and…this isn't funny!"

Linda grabbed Stephanie by the waist and unsteadily began to lead them both from the porch. Her daughter's sobs broke her heart, but there was nothing that she could do for her. She wasn't even sure how the hell they were going to survive. By morning, Vince will have cancelled the credit cards and drained the bank accounts that she knew of. Quite frankly, they were screwed. Given that the only possessions they had, was what they were currently wearing, they'd be lucky if they could even get a hotel room tonight.

"DADDDDDDY," Stephanie yelled out once more as her mother continued to take them away from the only place that she knew as home.

* * *

To continue or not to continue? That is the question I pose to you guys!


	2. Chapter 2

WELL! Let me just say I absolutely LOVED the reception that chapter one got. At first I wasn't sure of writing this fic because it's very intense and has its depressing moments. So I'm really glad that so many of you still want to see where I end up taking it. With responses like that, you can bet I'll definitely update as frequently as I can.

As always, ignore my typos. I literally write these chapters, catch what I can, post it and then proofread/edit again afterwards LOL. Enjoy and let me know what you think!

* * *

Present Day

Stephanie pulled the thin jacket tighter around her body in an attempt to shield herself from the freezing cold. She held the handle of her umbrella to her chest protectively, silently chanting to herself for the damn thing to please do its job. It was currently being held together by a piece of duct tape. From the last storm that had hit the eastern seaboard, her one and only umbrella had literally snapped in half. Quite honestly she didn't have the money to buy a new one. Or a new jacket.

Or…much of anything outside of the bare essentials. Those bare essentials included a roof over her and her mother's head and whatever food her scarce budget would allow.

A gust of wind blew hard and she stopped her pace on the sidewalk, planting her feet so that her tall, lithe frame wouldn't go flying into the street. Once it was cleared, she resumed power walking.

Fuck, when she'd asked if her day could get any worse, it hadn't been a challenge to the universe. She hadn't meant to welcome further inconvenience and misery with open arms. But apparently that's exactly the message that the universe had received. First, she woke up only to find that the hot water was on the fritz again. She'd taken a shower that only gave her two temperature choices: freezing cold and boiling hot. Once that trauma had subsided, she got to her car only to realize that it, too, was conspiring to make her day miserable. Her beaten down, lime-green and rust colored, 1984 Geo Metro wouldn't start. So she'd grabbed the umbrella from the backseat and set off for work on foot.

The weather was ugly, with not a pinch of sunlight in sight. The wind howled every couple of minutes. But she'd just really tried her best to make the twenty minute trek so that she wouldn't be forced to shield herself from the rain with her shitty umbrella and thin jacket. It wasn't optimism; not really. In the last five years she'd learned to forget what that was like. It was more like a desperate plea for just one single stroke of fucking luck in her otherwise sad life.

She dodged pedestrian traffic until finally she reached her place of work. To avoid setting off the bell that signified someone had just walked in, she ducked down the alley and used the back entrance instead. She pushed the somewhat decrepit wooden door open as silently as she could. Once she was inside, she breathed a sigh of relief, sat down her umbrella and pulled her jacket off. As beat down as this convenience store was, it was still ten times warmer than it was outside. It was also much drier.

From her backpack, she produced her black apron, donning the words, "Jo's Goods" in bright green. She poked her head around the corner to get a view of the store. Jo was attending to a couple of customers, so maybe she could successfully pull this off. She crouched and all but slid along the wall until she reached the supply room. If there was one thing that was always in demand, it was…cigarettes. She pulled a box of Salem's – their highest seller – and casually walked out onto the store floor.

Stephanie avoided making eye contact with anyone as she more or less snuck behind the counter and began replenishing the stock. She did that for a couple of minutes, before hearing a snort behind her. She turned around and acted surprised and mildly cheerful. "Hey Jo."

Jonathan Dozier stood – all somewhat overweight five foot seven of him – with his lip curled up in annoyance. "Look who finally decided to show up for work."

To prove her point, Stephanie placed another carton of Salem's where it ought to be. "I've been here for a bit…doing some stock."

Another snort, only this time he rubbed his hand through his thinning, gel-slathered, brown hair. "The fuck you have. I'm docking your pay an hour, McMahon."

Out of shock, Stephanie dropped the carton. "But why?" She gestured to the clock at the front of the store. It was only a quarter past 10 in the morning. "Even if I'd just gotten here, I wouldn't be an hour late."

He lifted one corner of his mouth in utter amusement. "Sweetcheeks, you ain't here if I don't see you. That means you're fifteen minutes late since I'm just now seein' ya," he somewhat drawled out in his Bronx accent. "Now, I know you didn't finish high school, so let me help with the math. You wasn't here so you don't get that fifteen minutes; your pay goes to who the hell was doing your job. Raquel left on time, because she came on time. That means that I did your job. I make more than you, obviously, so I get _my _wage for that fifteen. Adds up to an hour of your shit or thereabouts. Get me?"

Stephanie shook her head; not because she was confused but because she was in complete disbelief. That shit wasn't anywhere near legal. Then again, it wasn't legal for her to be working here under the table. She'd gotten the job over some redheaded bimbo with implants, solely because she was willing to be paid in cash, totally under the table, at a lower rate than what Jo had been offering for legit employees. "Okay…" she said slowly. "Can't I just stay fifteen minutes over, then?"

Jo laughed rudely, opening his mouth so wide that Stephanie could easily determine that he'd been dipping into his own stock, yet again. "Amy is in next and she's never late. What kinda sucker would I look like paying two girls to be here at the same time?"

"But-"

"What kinda boss would I look like telling Amy to start late because _Princess Stephanie_ can't get her shit together?"

So that was it then, huh? She was being jipped of seven dollars for being just a few minutes late. The minimum wage was only $7.25. while one quarter wasn't much on its own, it did add up to a savings that the cheap ass Jo Dozier found astronomical. In fact, when he'd hired her, his employment offer had been verbalized with, "Hell with that, I'd rather save myself some money and hassle than be distracted by looking at some bitch's red hair and fake tits for eight hours."

At that point, she really should have been able to guess how this employment relationship was going to be. But screw it; she'd been desperate. Honestly, she still was and would be for the foreseeable future. But food had to be put on the table for herself and her mother. Between her two, full-time, low-paying jobs she didn't even have time to search for anything better. Nor did she possess the confidence or self-esteem to try to sound more qualified and intelligent than her resume conveyed, to try to land a better opportunity elsewhere.

With a sigh, Stephanie nodded her head in defeat and knelt down to retrieve the carton she'd dropped. She tried hard not to think about the couple of items she would have used the small amount of money for. She could have stocked up on Ramen noodles, beans and other things that were relatively filling. The meals themselves wouldn't be very appealing, the entrees and sides wouldn't "go together" but they'd keep her and her mother alive for another week. And at the end of the day that's what it was all about: surviving.

Surviving in a post-recession era, in the most poverty-stricken city in New York. She'd heard rumblings that people with college degrees couldn't find jobs. Stephanie always wanted to laugh. College? She'd given that dream up long ago – sometime after she'd pretty much been forced to quit high school and find a job to help keep a roof over her head and food in her stomach. If only she'd been able to finish up her last semester, she could at least call herself a high school graduate. Instead, her final report card had been riddled with incomplete's. She'd tried her best to manage the alternate assignments given to her, along with her work schedule…She'd made up for all but two of the classes.

But then her shitty luck came into play. Her mother's substance abuse got well and truly out of control, resulting in her losing her job. Stephanie had already experienced enough in her young life to realize that she couldn't depend on her mother for shit. So, she'd immediately picked up a second job. It still wasn't enough for them to stay in the apartment they'd been able to afford on her Mom's wage. So eventually they moved to a smaller place in an even shittier neighborhood. Stephanie's remaining incomplete grades had been changed to F's a few months later.

And now? Well, she was here. This was her life. For the most part she'd gotten used to it. Stopped expecting to ever have more than what she had or to be more than what she was. Stopped hoping for her mother to quit destroying herself with alcohol and whatever else she got into when she was left at home alone.

The changes she couldn't afford to desire would never come. The luck would always evade her, the miracles skip her. There was nothing she could do about that. But the tears over realizing how stuck she was? Those may never stop, but at least no one knew about it except for her.


End file.
